Stay Gold
by hostfloater
Summary: Perhaps fate was drunk that day. She pulled Itachi away from Death's grip and cursed him to live.  Eventual Sasuita if it continues.


**AN**: Its long winded and I suspect its littered with strange mistakes I missed. Apologies for them. While I haven't thought of a plot direction, I think its leaning more towards the **Sasuita** side. Or it would be left as a one shot.

**Warnings**: Mild yaoi and quite a bit of angst. If you don't like it you can always click back. :D

**Disclaimer**: Once again, I own nothing whatsoever.

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated.**

Stay gold SXI

It was irony at its best. He had created a monster. A monster born of blood, innocence and hatred.

Yet everything had gone according to plan at first, had it not? The steps he had meticulously crafted. One step back. Two to the right. After his death, the machine he had switched on, like a chain reaction as he had planned, should have gone on without a glitch. The cycle of events, the fate of the unknowing key players would have danced on in its tandem.

His death should have been enough to pacified Sasuke to return to Konoha with Itachi's blood on his sword as a hero. To a village that would live to see a new generation of peace and carry on his next purpose in life - inject new blood to cleanse away their tainted family crest. Like a master puppeteer, he had plugged all possible loopholes from every probability to reached the desired outcome. Sasuke would have been redeemed to a new life. Yet for every strategy and equation, there will always be that one unknown constant. The uncertainty. The night of the Uchiha massacre should have been a secret that would die with him. Dead man tells no tales. Yet those sinful secrets was not known only to him. From an ancient mouth, it had tainted his younger brother's mind. That wily old fox. He always suspected Madara knew more than he let on, dear teacher of his. He had fed that vengeful spirit that was meant to be laid to rest upon his death. It consumed Sasuke until there was nothing left but bones. He had predicted this possibility of course, but there was only so much he could control from the land of the dead.

Was it time to let go? The young innocent boy of eight he seek so hard to preserve was no more. Yet he found himself unable to pull the two apart. That cold porcelain face of his brother with dark eyes of hate would always overlap with a rounder one whose face would always be tenderly trusting and lined with crushed disappointment. Itachi had let Sasuke down too many times to count. Filling him up with anticipation of spending time with his adored older brother only to be shot back down to earth. It was his regret, but it was necessary to distant himself from his younger brother. He couldn't use hands that were tainted with so much blood to sully Sasuke. The boy was his light. The one who kept him from falling into the spiraling darkness of insanity with his childish innocence. The world was not all lost. There are things still worthy to protect and to hold onto. The villager who worked a simple honest life to return happy family for dinner, the girl who giggles when she swings with the wind, the cat contented with a warm patch of sunlight. They were why he worked so hard to protect the village. Most of all his little brother who deserves so much more than the cold love from their family and the measly open affections Itachi could barely afford him.

There were times he was afraid. Just how deep does his affections for Sasuke go? It seem to skirt round the boundaries of the forbidden, seemingly all too eager to plunge right in. Maybe it already had but it would never see the light of day. These are lines that he prayed he would never cross for everyone's sake.

He had burned out his eyes and drained himself of chakra to play the part of Sasuke's vengeance and later laid on the cold hard floor waiting for death's salvation. The culmination of his efforts, he had held onto death's hands and smiled at him. Those bitter years he suffered through with illness ravaging his body and his silent mission for Konoha wearing him down had led to a shameful crush on Death. Perhaps fate was drunk that day. She had pulled Itachi from Death's grip and cursed him to live. He was trusted unwillingly back into the living in all its screaming techni-colours when his eyes snapped open. Beyond his pounding head and clouded vision, he found himself in a foreign room literally made entirely out of wood with a small dresser in the corner and a wardrobe. There were tiny decorating knick knacks serving to give a cosy appeal and a large window towards his right where filtered sunshine poured in. The bed he laid on was soft and he could detect the distant scent of pine. His body was shrouded in bandages and he felt comfortingly numb that was doubtlessly masking pain that would have left him writhing on the sheets.

At that point, he could barely bring himself to care about anything at all. He had done all he could and only wished to close his eyes for the final time. But the days went by and his body slowly repaired itself. The kindly old lady who found his battered body at her doorstep had found great company in his quiet presence and was more than delighted to nurse him. Perhaps Zetsu had finally decided to repay the favour Itachi had done him a long time ago. Eventually he recovered and bade her farewell but he had took on too much damage to go unscathed. His skills will never be what it used to be though it is still on par with any akatsuki member and he had lost his bloodline. Yet it was a small price to pay to keep his sight. Additionally, the illness that had crippled him for so long had left with his bloodline. He was finally a free man.

Though he was dead to the world, it was still prudent to keep on a disguise. He wore coloured lenses every so often and changed his hairstyle regularly though he could never bring himself to cut his black locks. He travelled widely, living a simple life though he never lingered at a place for too long. He had swore to never return to to the life of a shinobi, but he couldn't resist keeping tabs on his younger brother. He knew he should let Sasuke go and live the quiet life he thought he never will have but it was a like a wound he kept scratching incessantly, making himself bleed over and over again. He knew that if he left it alone, it would heal and eventually he would forget, but he couldn't help himself. He was addicted to the pain it gave. Punishment and salvation to the guilt he carried like a stone in his heart.

And just like it had always been, his love for Sasuke would always be the bond he could never cut away.


End file.
